


Wished For Love

by aphVirginia



Series: Shiroan Fics [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: but for now its just shiro and coran uvu, if i write another story based on this premise then I'll probably add other ships, shiroan, there arent any paladin x paladin ships here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:18:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8229719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphVirginia/pseuds/aphVirginia
Summary: Shiro gets a bis suspicious when the paladins start dragging him away from his normal routine after a training session one day. All's well until Lance accidentally seals him in an airlock all by himself.
Basically, I got salty from the lack of Shiroan (Shiro x Coran) fics and wrote my own. I hope you all enjoy it!!!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all!!!
> 
> I would like to thank my friend http://sihatn.tumblr.com/ for editing this piece of work, and for http://forteandbass.tumblr.com/ for lettimg me pick at their brain for what dissociation feels like to those affected by it.
> 
> This fic contains dissociation. If you suffer from dissociation, then please proceed with caution. Otherwise, enjoy the fic!!!

To say Shiro was surprised by the current events would be an understatement.

 

He and the other Paladins just got back from a training session. He’d talked with Coran about ways to improve the other missions while the others had wandered off. Pidge went to go fiddle with the Galra crystal they had stowed away on board, and Hunk and Lance had wandered off to taste-test some of the shorter’s latest creations. Keith walked towards the training grounds, but that was normal for the paladin; he either fought or jogged for an hour or two after the team’s practice with the lions. Allura had castle duties to attend to, and was setting up… something. He wasn’t sure what that something was, but he thought it was important. He’d bid Coran farewell, heart fluttering just a bit due to speaking with the other, and headed off towards the bridge

All in all, it felt like a normal day. Until it wasn’t.

 

Shiro walked towards the bridge. This was the room Allura piloted the castle from and was the room with the easiest access to the lions, similar to human spacecraft. He was a few hallways away when he heard Pidge calling for him.

“Shiro!” They’d called out, running towards him as quickly as their short legs could move. “Shiro, I need your help!!!”

“Sure; with what?” The look of relief on the other’s (?) face made him that much more concerned.

“I need your height. I want to try something with Green, but I can’t reach to put the thingy there.” … Well then. He hadn’t thought that whatever Pidge wanted him to do would take very long, so with a nod he found himself being dragged by the hand towards the hanger.

Half an hour later, he wasn’t sure he’d made the right choice in agreeing to help. Pidge had had Shiro put a small, dime-sized object on Green’s foreleg. It was magnetic and difficult to shift once it was on the lion, and the small paladin kept wanting him to shift it to get it into an exact position.

“It needs to be perfect, Shiro.” Pidge called out from where they were seated at their laptop, eyes flickering between the glowing screen and his struggles. “Try nudging it up a little bit?”

“Pidge,“ He grunted, barely managing to shift the small object in the direction Pidge wanted. “Is this thing even going to work?”

“It should. Step back.” He jogged over to Pidge’s coding station, looking at the technical jargon on the screen and then back at the dime-sized object on the lion.

“In three… two… one…” They pressed a button, and it looked like nothing happened. He was about to open his mouth to say something about it when Allura came through on the coms.

“Pidge, is the Green Lion with you right now? Our scanners can’t detect it and I’m not sure where it is.” Her voice sounded panicked and strained over the com, as if the absence of the Green Lion was causing the ship some sort of error.

“Yeah. I was just testing some new tech on the lion, I’ll turn it off now.” With that, Pidge pressed another button. The coms clicked off, and the room fell into a soft silence.

“Do you… need any more help?” He asked, eyeing the dime with caution.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll find Lance if I need someone’s height again.” They smiled happily before going to code something else—probably an in-lion command to activate the anti-tracking device, if he had to guess—and he took his leave from the room.

Shiro decided to make his way back to the main room. There was still time to have one of his lovely chats with Allura and Coran—he rather liked discussing old Altea and the differences between it and Earth—when he was stopped by Keith.

“Hey, Shiro; Can I look at your arm?” He blinked twice, confused. Why would Keith want to look at his arm?

“… You’re already looking at it, though?”

“No, I mean—Can I hold it?” For all of three seconds, he thought Keith wanted to hold his hand. Then he realized what Keith actually wanted.

“Uh… Sure, I guess.” He rolled up his sleeve, removing the technology with practiced ease. He held out his now detached mechanical arm for Keith to hold, the other taking it and looking it over with obvious awe.

“… Your arm’s pretty cool.” Keith said after a moment, hold shifting on it. Shiro raised an eyebrow, suddenly suspicious. “I’m just gonna—“ And suddenly Keith was running down the hall, his mechanical arm clutched firmly in the other paladin’s hands.

“What the—KEITH!!!” He took off after the paladin, hot on Keith’s heels as the other bobbed and weaved through the halls. Why did Keith have to be so damned fast?

After what felt like an hour of running, he finally caught Keith; he’d run down a hallway with a dead end.

“That was a fun training exercise.” Keith panted out, a small grin on his face. “I wasn’t expecting you to keep pace as well as you did. Here.” Shiro snatched his arm out of Keith’s grip as it was offered to him, far too drained to be angry.

“Don’t… do that again. Ever.” He put his arm back into place, giving it a firm tug forward to make sure it was firmly attached. Once he was satisfied that it was, he left a smug-looking Keith to bask in whatever strange glory the red paladin seemed to be feeling.

He hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards when he spotted Lance coming towards him.

“Goddamnit.” He muttered softly; all he wanted to do now was shower and nap, but fate seemed to have different plans. Louder, he said “What do you want, Lance?”

“I wanted to show you this really cool thing Coran showed me! C’mon, it’s this way!!!” And just like before, Shiro was practically dragged by one of his paladins to another location.

“… you wanted to show me an airlock?”

“Yes! Well… Yes and no. there’s this cool symbol thing on the other side of the airlock doors, in the room between the main part of the ship and, y’know, space. I can get the door to open and close—Coran showed me how to do it!” Seeing that Lance looked like an excited puppy dog, he couldn’t exactly say no. Besides, he rarely got to see Lance happy and excited over something that wasn’t women and talking about Keith.

“... I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…” He mused.

“Yes!” Lance shouted, overjoyed. With that, he led the way to the airlock

“And the doors will open in three, two, one—“ Lance pushed a button on the side of the airlock, allowing the inner door to open. He stepped inside, then turned to look towards the entryway.

“Shutting it in three, two, one!” As the door slid shut, a rather beautiful symbol appeared the lower the metal got to the floor below. When it was fully revealed, it appeared to be some sort of triple triangle with some odd-looking squiggly lines. Perhaps it was something written in Altaian, or a symbol specific to Allura.

“This is a rather strange symbol… Thanks for showing it to me.” God, he was tired. Cool as is was, all he wanted to do was leave and sleep. “You can let me out now, Lance.” He paused, noticing something rather… alarming. Through the glass on the side, Lance seemed confused.

“… Lance?” The blue paladin jumped, smiling nervously at Shiro.

“S-so… I, uhm, may or may not have forgotten which button opens this door?” His heart stopped in his chest. Was… Was he trapped in the small space? Was Lance going to--

“D-don’t worry, I can get Coran to get it open. I don’t want to accidentally jettison you out into open space… I’ll be right back!!!” His heart sank as Lance turned and sprinted off; he didn’t want to be trapped in the small room, and he most certainly didn’t want to be trapped in the room while left alone. He also didn’t want Coran to see him stuck in such an embarrassing situation, even if it wasn’t his fault.

After what felt like hours but was actually more like five minutes of standing by the door, he opted to sit in one of the room’s corners instead. His eyes trailed the walls, taking in all the minute details. All the little metal seams that went from floor to ceiling, all the little jut-out bits in the corners, and the smooth texture of the wall. Eventually his eyes started to lose focus, and while he could still see the wall he could no longer make out the details. His eyes scanned over the door in the back, noticing that the door didn’t have the same symbol as the inside of the entryway. He wondered if it was on the other side; he didn’t have his space gear, but if he floated out he’d be able to see if it was there or not.

He kept his eyes glued to the back, the door that would lead to his demise should it open. He knew it wouldn’t open; he knew that Lance would get Coran, that all the liquid in his body wouldn’t shoot out of all his orifices and pores. He knew that he wouldn’t suffocate from a lack of air nor would he choke on his own fluids simultaneously as he floated aimlessly in space, a curled up husk of a human being that once could have piloted a lion.

He knew that he wouldn’t die. But his mind kept telling him otherwise.

His breathing picked up, until he was hyperventilating and his heart was beating out of his chest. He wouldn’t die, he would be okay; would he really? What’s to say that Lance wouldn’t just forget about him in there? Maybe he wouldn’t die in Space, and instead die of dehydration in the air lock. Maybe Lance would come back and jettison his dead, rotted corpse into outer space, so that no one would ever know where he went or how he’d died—

He focused on his heartbeat, doing his best to calm down. He knew he wouldn’t die, but his mind kept telling him otherwise. He just… needed to calm down. His heartbeat sped up rather than slow down; icy fear gnawed at his chest, spreading its spikes through his arms and legs and nailing him to the ground. He was going to die, right here in this tiny room, and nobody was going to know about it.

Still… it was better than being a Galra prisoner. His mind, now turned towards the past, flitted through memory after memory. Of all the lives he’d had to take as the Galra “Champion,” the human who had gone undefeated in the ring. He remembered the faces; never the names. He’d thought that not having a name for the face would make his life easier, would ease his regret—now, he wished he’d gotten their names. They all had needed someone to remember them, deserved it, and he hadn’t given them that peace of mind.

He remembered Matt; Pidge’s look-alike older brother who he’d tried to prevent going into the ring. He’d succeeded—his mind began to twist and turn. It replaced the faces of all those he had killed with Matt’s face, their voices with his, their final words all being shifted into the small, scared voice of his crewmate.

 

“ _Tell Katie I love her._ ”

 

His mind taunted him. Near the end of his stay, he became a bloodthirsty monster. He _wanted_ his kills. It wasn’t his fault—The Galra fed him more, gave him a blanket if he fought well—but he could remember the faces of those he’d killed then so clearly. He remembered being ecstatic, overjoyed, by the prospect of having food to eat. His mind turned their faces into Matt’s face. With each death the other suffered, the more drawn-out and ragged the other seemed to be.

Matt was all he could think of. He’d killed Matt—every time he’d had the chance, he’d killed Matt. He’d enjoyed it, had loved seeing the light of life die in his opponent’s eyes. And every time—every single time—the same five words were whimpered out amidst choked gasps and bloody coughs.

 

“ _Tell Katie I love her._ ”

 

He saw himself kill Matt in every way imaginable. With his human hand, his metal hand, with the occasional weapon that the Galra had allowed him to use, and on the day that he’d actually escaped from the hellhole. He’d had to kill Galra guards to leave; now each one had Matt’s face, and each said the same thing as they died. He recalled trying to save someone else, anyone else, but all the prisoners he’d tried to free had been brought to their deaths by other Galra soldiers. At each of their deaths, he only saw Matt. Poor, poor Matt. And every time, those same five words.

 

“ _Tell Katie I love her._ ”

 

He lost his train of thought as soon as the world in front of him flickered to black, and then the sterile white of the airlock. He felt something… warm, and just a little bit heavy get wrapped around his shoulders.

“Shiro?” Coran asked softly, an expression Shiro had never seen on the other’s face. Or, at least, he didn’t think he’d seen it before. Had he? He couldn’t remember.

From Coran, he noticed Pidge and Lance standing nearby. Both looked incredibly worried, as if he had done something bad or worrisome. Had he done something bad? Had he scared them?

“I-I—what was the question again?” He was confused. He vaguely remembered Coran saying something, but for the life of him he wasn’t sure what it had been. It… also didn’t feel like the words had come out of his mouth. The sound… well, sounded like his voice, but it didn’t _feel_ like it.

Coran was silent for a moment; for the briefest moment, Shiro thought he noticed something like pure understanding and pity flit across the alien man’s face.

“Well… I’d asked if you were ready to be picked up. You’d agreed to let me do it… So, are you ready?” Well… If he’d agreed to do it, then it must be for some important reason. He couldn’t remember why, but it must be important.

He nodded, the motion feeling strange and not his own. He wanted to nod, but it felt as if he were a puppet on strings. His hands went to grab at the warm thing draped across his shoulders—a blanket, one that felt heavier than average—before being gently scooped into Coran’s arms and held bridal style.

He noticed Lance and Pidge share a look—Confusion? Worry? Amusement? He wasn’t sure. Maybe he had something on his face?

Wait, why was he being carried? Coran was warm, but he didn’t understand why he was being carried. He’d only thought that would happen if it was something important, like if he’d gotten hurt. He didn’t feel hurt…

Then again, he couldn’t really _feel_ his body. So how would he know?

Coran began to move, leaving the airlock. He couldn’t see Lance and Pidge anymore, but he supposed that that might be a good thing. He didn’t want to scare his paladins with whatever it was that made Coran have to carry him.

“Lance, Pidge, go tell Allura that I’ll be back to help her with repairs later.” Coran said, voice an eerie calm. Shiro hadn’t thought Coran could even get that calm; the tall alien was usually pretty hyper.

Wait, why was he being carried again? He couldn’t remember. The blanket was warm, and so was Coran; had he gotten hurt?

He heard two sets of footsteps skitter off behind him and Coran, fading as the people who owned them ran off to do… something. His head turned to get a better look; Coran’s shoulder was in the way.

“How are you feeling, Shiro?” Coran asked quietly; he almost hadn’t heard it.

“… m’fine.” His voice didn’t sound like his own. He _knew_ that it was his, it had to be, it was his own vocal cords after all. But it just… wasn’t him. He didn’t know why, either.

“That’s good. We’ll get to your room pretty soon; would you like to sleep alone, or would you like me to stay?” Already, his mind had forgotten the prior question.

“... What was good?” Coran let out a soft sigh, and shifted how he was held. It nestled his head in the crook of Coran’s arm. It felt… nice.

“Don’t worry about it, Shiro.” Coran felt… really warm. Had Shiro not noticed just how warm the other was before? When was the last time he’d touched the alien, like on the hand or something? When was the last time he’d touched anyone? When was the last time he’d gotten a hug? Man, a hug would feel great right about then…

Wait, where were they going? Why was Coran carrying him, again? Man, he hoped the other paladins didn’t see him like this… They needed him to be strong.

“Where…?” It still didn’t feel right to speak.

“We’re going to your room. If you’re worried about the other paladins, they’re all doing their own thing. They’ll probably go to the kitchen soon, since Hunk is almost done with one of his latest creations.” Shiro nodded, fully believing Coran. Why would Coran lie to him? Coran was taking care of him, making sure he wasn’t hurt. Coran was… Well, Coran was a good friend.

He felt Coran’s hold on him tighten, the alien going to tap at the wall near a door. The door slid open, revealing… His room. Huh. When had they gotten there?

“I’m going to put you on the bed, alright?” Coran murmured softly. He nodded, head turning to look towards his piles of pillows and blankets. He really liked his bed. It was soft and warm and had many snuggly blankets and pillows. It helped him feel safe.

Coran gently and delicately deposited him on the bed, dead center in the pillows. He snuggled into it, feeling safe and warm, but… something felt off. Something was missing…

“I’m going to go help Allura with something. See you later, Shiro.” Coran said, walking towards the door.

_Coran_ was the thing that was missing. The further the tall alien got, the less safe he felt; He didn’t want to be alone.

“Coran… Don’t leave…” He hated that his voice wasn’t his own, and just how _pitiful_ it sounded. It sounded small… like a child.

Coran’s feet halted their steady march towards the door. Shiro watched as the other turned, meeting the other’s gaze as steadily as he could. He needed Coran; he felt safer with the other man there.

“… Alright. What… do you want me to do?” Coran’s voice sounded confused, and slightly concerned. He didn’t know why.

He thought over Coran’s question for a moment. He felt safer the closer Coran was, so…

“Cuddles?” He didn’t want to force Coran into doing something that the other didn’t want to do; if it helped the other feel better, then he could settle for Coran just staying in the room with him.

“Scoot over a bit, then.” Coran closed the distance between the two of them; after his body moved itself to give Coran some room, the tall alien slid into the blanket pile and loosely draped an arm over him. Instinctively, he snuggled close. Coran was warm, and he felt really safe with the alien. Besides, from his position he could still see the door.

“This good, Shiro?”

“Yeah.” After a minute or two, he felt his hands gently clutch at the fabric of Coran’s shirt. He’d wanted to, to make sure the other didn’t leave him, but it still felt really strange to feel as if someone else was controlling him. At least with Coran there, he didn’t feel scared or lonely.

Slowly, he felt his eyelids get heavy. He could hear Coran’s heartbeat—it was a bit slower than a human heartbeat, and far steadier—and found that his breathing began to match Coran’s slower pattern. With one last shift of his body, one to share some of his blanket with Coran as well as to loop his legs around the closer of the two for proper comfy snuggles, he fell asleep.

When he awoke, it wasn’t to the usual sound of a loud alarm. It wasn’t to the sound of the ship’s systems going haywire, nor was it to someone shaking him awake. His body awoke him of its own accord, refreshed after a proper nap. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d gotten that much sleep at once, or felt as refreshed from sleep. He stretched a bit, still sleepy mind causing him to nuzzle his face more into the Warm Thing that he was pressed against.

Slowly he started waking up. He let out a soft, sleepy yawn, blearily blinking his eyes open. His vision was fuzzy and blurred from sleep, but he could make out some details. He was in his room in his bed, with Coran…

 

Wait.

 

He mentally froze up, all gears grinding to a halt. He was… in his bed. With Coran. Had they… No. No, they didn’t. They were both in their clothes, and he didn’t feel a wet spot on his crotch. He unfroze, and allowed his eyes to slide shut again. How had he ended up sharing a bed with Coran? He was relieved they hadn’t done anything; he’d have wanted to remember that, to have cherished it in his mind as something special that had happened to him.

He … couldn’t remember being carried, or the trip back. He remembered getting stuck in the airlock, and Lance going to get Coran, but after that it was just… gone. Nothing.

“Hey, Shiro. How are you feeling?” Coran’s voice was surprisingly soft and gentle, one that promised safety and hugs and all things kind and good. It was a voice that made him feel safe by its sheer nature, a voice that was filled with genuine hope and trustworthiness that was difficult to achieve. It was a voice that screamed compassion and pure kindness.

“… Tired.” He mumbled, blinking open his eyes to look up at Coran. The alien’s face seemed softer than normal. The soft wrinkles that had seemed natural weren’t there; had they been from stress? He wasn’t sure.

However, Coran’s face made him feel safe. He wasn’t sure how or why, but it did. It made him feel small, but in a good way; it made him feel loved. He hadn’t thought he’d feel that way ever again from the moment he was dragged into the Galra ship.

Coran’s lips formed a soft smile, eyes twinkling with an emotion that Shiro couldn’t place. It was a good emotion, though; that much he knew.

“Do you want to sleep for a little longer?” He shook his head slightly, unabashedly snuggling closer to Coran. He wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again for several hours even if he wanted to.

“Don’t think I’d be able to.” He admitted, a soft smile on his face. “But thanks for the offer.” Coran nodded, eyes sliding shut as if in thought.

“Hey, Shiro… What do you remember from earlier today?” He blinked twice. He knew there was stuff that was missing, a gap in his memory, but… He didn’t want to admit that.

“All of it. Why do you ask?” He feigned innocence. He really didn’t want to explain what had happened. He wasn’t sure if Coran would understand what dissociation was, or if he could explain it properly.

“So you remember what you did when Hunk accidentally locked us in the airlock after I opened it?” He… Didn’t remember Hunk. But he didn’t remember leaving the airlock, so it probably happened. Right?

“… I calmed him down so you could tell him how to re-open the airlock.” That’s what he thought he’d do. It seemed unlikely that Hunk would have locked them in on purpose, and the paladin probably would have been freaking out and apologizing the whole time. It still didn’t explain why he and Coran were sharing the same bed, though.

“That would have been what you did,” His heart sank in his chest; Coran knew he didn’t remember a lick of what had happened. “If it had happened.” He shut his eyes, hid his face in Coran’s chest. He didn’t want to talk about it.

“Shiro…” Coran paused, as if trying to figure out how to word what the alien wanted to say. He felt gentle fingers weave their way through his hair, in a sort of calming pattern. It was an odd sensation, but it was also rather relaxing. “I’m not mad at you. It’s… understandable, that you don’t want to talk about it.”

“I was reading through some of the books Pidge brought, and one of them was a human health book. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I’m a trained Altean battlefield medic.” Shiro opened his eyes, surprised; he hadn’t realized that before. Then again, that’d explain why Coran always insisted on feeding them that green goo stuff… If it was healthy, then pretty much any doctor would approve of it for normal human consumption.

Coran kept talking , noticing Shiro’s slight lapse in focus but forgiving it instantly. “That means that I have to know these things for my safety as well as everyone else’s, along with the mechanical stuff I have to know as Allura’s assistant. Inside the health book, there’s a rather long section on human mental ailments. All of them have their Altean equivalents, but it was interesting to see that us Alteans aren’t the only ones who can get what you humans call post-traumatic-stress-disorder and depression.” The alien paused, mentally steering himself away from the medical-related tangent he’d been about to take.

“What I think you have to deal with, as part of your currently existing mental illness due to the trauma you experienced at the hands of the Galra is a mixture of PTSD and Depression, based on the human book and my knowledge of the Altean equivalents. Due to the extremity of the trauma, you also have to deal with dissociation; the Altean word for that is—“ Coran proceeded to speak in Altean. The word sounded a lot like the pronunciation of shneeshiyah.

“I’m not sure if you noticed, but… I’m well aware of what that feels like.” Shiro snapped his head up, looking at Coran’s face with surprise. Coran’s eyes were averted; this was obviously something that was difficult for the alien to say. He wondered if Allura knew… Somehow, he doubted it. “If you need to talk to someone about… All that, then I’m more than willing to talk. You’re not alone anymore.”

Shiro wasn’t sure what to say to that. It wasn’t something he’d heard since the Galra caught him, nor was it something he’d been told once the other paladins had saved him. It hadn’t even fully sunk in that he had support until Coran called his attention to it. He rested his head back in the crook of Coran’s neck, eyes sliding shut. His arms instinctively tightened around Coran, needing the sense of security that came with holding Coran close. He felt something wet leak out of his eyes; shit, was he crying?

Coran’s arms wrapped themselves tightly around him, the other not saying a word; for that, he was grateful. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, nor could he remember the last time he’d felt safe enough to cry in someone else’s arms. He clutched Coran like a lifeline, dependent upon the other’s support. The tears turned into sobs, unblocked and unfiltered. He didn’t try to speak, nor did he want to. He felt Coran begin to rub gentle circles to his back, and for that he was grateful.

The tears eventually dried away; not because he was done crying, but because he’d run out of tears to shed. Still, he laid there clinging to Coran. He lost track of time, emotionally drained but too awake to fall asleep; the limbo that he tried his best to avoid. He felt a pair of lips press themselves to the top of his head; He thought it was pretty likely that Coran learned about human gestures of affection from Pidge’s health book, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t think it was special.

“Shiro…” Coran paused; it was as if he wanted to say something, but didn’t know how.

“Yeah?” His own voice was soft. Quiet. He hoped it sounded comforting, but he wasn’t sure it was there.

“I don’t… know the word for what I want to say. In English, that is.” He opened his eyes, shifting his head to look at the other. Coran’s cheeks were dusted with a slight pink that hadn’t been there before. Was Coran… blushing?

“If I remember correctly, it’s love. So, uh…” Well, now he knew why Coran was blushing. His own cheeks were turning a bit red; he’d guessed what Coran was going to say, and he wasn’t sure what to say about it. He’d certainly thought about something like this happening before, on days where he and Coran would just sit and talk about things like space, rain, and anything under the sun stars. He hadn’t thought the other felt the same way.

“Shiro, I love you. More than friends.” He was positive that he was beet red by now. Coran… felt that way about him? Really? He… He didn’t know what to say. He had so many problems, both with his mental state and his ability to judge when he needed to stop doing things and take breaks. He was, in short, a trainwreck.

“You don’t have to make any decisions right now. I just… I wanted to tell you later on today, but now seemed like a good time. I-I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable—“ He nuzzled his face back into the crook of Coran’s neck, a small smile on his face. The action put Coran into a stunned silence.

“I… Didn’t know you felt that way.” He admitted softly. “I like you, Coran. I really do. But… I’m not sure that I’m the best person for you.” He felt Coran tense up; it hurt his heart, but he kept speaking. “I’ve got my mental issues, not to mention a whole host of other problems. Right here, right now? That’s the first decent chunk of sleep I’ve had in three days. I think the last time I ate was when Hunk forced me to, and that was yesterday. And I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to fix me. I’m….” He took a deep breath. What he was about to say… It wasn’t something he tended to voice. But Coran had been honest, and so would he. If he had tears left to cry, he knew a few would be leaking from his eyes.

“I’m not worth the effort.”

“You don’t get to decide that. Are you saying that I don’t think you’re worth the effort?” Coran’s question surprised him. He… didn’t have an answer. “Who said you weren’t worth their time, their effort, their love? Because I know all that. I know that you have your problems and that I have mine; if you’re saying you’re not worth the effort, does the same go for me?”

“N-no, of course not—“ He was shocked by the question; why would—

“Then it’s my decision what I put my time and effort towards. Am I worth your time, your effort?” Coran interrupted him, voice calm and certain with a tinge of well-hidden worry and pain.

“… Yes. But—“

“Then that’s your decision. And it’s my decision about what my time and effort goes towards. Shiro…” Coran gently eased Shiro’s head from its hiding spot, looking him dead in the eyes.

“I love you. And I want to try this. Is that something you are willing to try, too?” His eyes scanned Coran’s face, taking in details on the other’s face. The little tattoo things under Coran’s eyes, the color of the man’s moustache…

He leaned in and pressed a very gentle kiss to Coran’s lips. They felt soft, and tasted just a bit tangy. Oranges, he thought.

“Yes. It is.” In that moment, he swore that Coran was the happiest he’d ever seen the other. The joy seemed to take years off the man’s face, a pure happiness that radiated from the two of them and surrounded them in a bubble of happiness. He nuzzled his face back into Coran’s neck, basking in the happiness and the joy that he felt. He just… wanted the moment to last forever.

 

Which, of course, meant that now was the time to be interrupted.

 

Coran’s pager-like tool went off; at first, the two ignored it, but it kept beeping. With a sigh, Coran unwound an arm from around him to read it.

“… huh. Looks like the others want us up on the bridge.” He looked at the pager note, but was unable to read the Altean script. He’d have to have Coran teach it to him later. “You want to get up and go, or do you want to stay here for a bit longer?”

“… I think we can go. Is it something serious, or…” Really, he didn’t want to leave. But he’d have to get up eventually, and Coran could potentially come back that night for proper cuddles. Besides, he doubted the other would let him go a full 24 hours without sleep ever again.

“No. Allura and the rest of the paladins are there, though. Something about some sort of board game…” He nodded, unwillingly peeling himself from Coran’s side to get out of bed. Coran typed out a quick response to Allura before shifting a bit, helping untangle their legs so that Shiro could stand. It felt cold, not having Coran’s body heat there to warm him up. He turned, offering his hand to Coran—could he call the other his boyfriend now? He wasn’t sure.

 

He helped Coran to their feet, and kept their fingers interlaced. He smiled warmly at the other, before heading out to the bridge.

 

* * *

 

“Surprise!” His eyes were wide, staring at the room with surprise. The others had decorated the room with what appeared to be homemade streamers and balloons; there was even an iced cake with a candle. The whole setup amazed him—where had they gotten all the stuff for it?

He was still holding hands with Coran.

“What the… Is this for me?” He was completely surprised; how had they managed to bake a cake, or get icing?

“Yeah. It’s your birthday today, if my laptop calendar is right.” Pidge said, smiling. “I think you’ll be 35?”

“34, but you were close.” He’s smiling. He knows he is. His paladins cared, they all cared. It made his heart fill with insurmountable joy, making him to drop Coran’s hand for a moment to scoop all his paladins into a tight hug.

“Thank you.” When he dropped the hug, all of them were blushing and embarrassed; even Keith had a red tinge on his face.

“C’mon, you gotta make a wish!!! Hunk worked real hard on the cake, and I helped decorate it.” Lance gently pushed him towards the cake, as if doing so would put his ‘too cool for embarrassment’ persona back in place.

He looked at the candle and knew what he wanted. He blew out the candle, but knew that his wish was already granted.

 

He wished for love.


End file.
